Preference
by impeckably
Summary: (AU) "Atticus, what's a lesbian?"
**This is something I've thought about for months. And I've even consulted my friend on how Atticus would react, I mean, I don't see why he'd be bitter. Everyone was racist in the 1930's, and who wasn't? Anyways I've been meaning to write this for a while, but now I finally have, shitty and short like always, but if you review I'd still be grateful.**

"Atticus, what's a lesbian?"

It was this question that made the greying man lower his newspaper, to see the innocent, yet aging face of his daughter.

He wasn't sure what to say. Homosexuality wasn't exactly something that was…embraced, where they lived. In fact, it was taboo. It was considered a bigger taboo to be with someone of the same sex than to be with someone of the same blood, something the lawyer would never understand. And Alexandra had had plenty to say about said "taboo".

Now of course Atticus didn't have the same viewpoints. But it sill worried him because of others' perspective of the subject.

Perhaps because he's had a hunch that one was among them.

Realizing he hadn't answered her question, he came out of his thoughts and cleared his throat.

"A lesbian, Scout, is a female who is attracted to those of her sex." He answered, confident but slightly awkward. "No more, no less." He concluded. She nodded.

"Why do you ask?"

"Cecil Jacobs called me that." She said, skeptical. She didn't know what it meant, but she was for certain it was nothing good. "They laughed and one threw his milk carton at me." Atticus couldn't help but feel his stomach turn. It was incredible what influence the townspeople had on youngsters, turning their confusion and unknowing strictly into prejudice. But he was still unsure for one thing, but at the same time, he was certain.

"Why did they do that?" He asked delicately. He wasn't surprised to see the thirteen-year-old's face turn tomato red.

She didn't answer. She didn't have to. Instead, she replied with a question.

"Am I one of those, Atticus?"

Atticus reached out with slightly shake hands and tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear.

"I reckon that's something you'll have to figure out on your own, baby."

The subject was dropped temporarily. But Atticus paid closer attention to his daughter. She didn't go to school dances, she didn't go out with boys - well, she did, but they were either her brother or her childhood "fiancé". No dates. And every time another girl with curly blonde hair in her class walked by, she went in a haze.

The lawyer was fearful, however, she somebody else had noticed it too. He typically didn't care what other people had to say about him or his ways, but he was fearful beyond compare, of what they might say about the girl. What they might do. And good Lord if his sister were to find out. The last thing he wanted to do was lose his sister. Or his daughter. It was times like these when Atticus would ask himself what would Jean do.

But, of course, he never said anything. He waited for her to speak for herself.

And eventually, she did.

It was night fall, and Cal had already been taken home. Jem was in his room reading a football magazine and he sat in bed reading, until he heard his door creak open.

"Atticus?" Scout stood in the doorway in her night gown, hanging onto the door knob like life support.

He sat his book down and looked at her expectantly, silently signaling for her to go on. As if on cue, the girl slowly made her way to the bed, and at first, skeptically sat on the end, then brought her legs up to her chest.

"What is it, Scout?" He already knew.

"Do you remember…when Cecil Jacobs called me a…" Her already soft voice went down to a whisper. "...lesbian?"

"I reckon I do." he was whispering too.

She looked down to her fiddling thumbs, trying to find the right words. Atticus waited patiently.

"Well…..I d-done some thinking….and." She looked at him, and he smiled and nodded for her to go on. "Cecil Jacobs was right." She looked down at her shaking hands again at the last word, then glanced up at him. Then looked down again.

Before she knew it, she had found her father's arms around her, and her head in his chest.

"I know."

"You do?" She looked up at him.

"I'm your father." Atticus chuckled. Scout leaned on him, and there was silence for a few minutes.

"…Atticus?"

"Hmm?"

"Am I still Scout?"

Atticus pulled her closer to himself.

"You'll always be my Scout."

 **(Three cheers for a shitty ending)**


End file.
